


Heat

by Bronte



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 100 Themes Challenge, Awkward Sexual Situations, F/M, Horny Teenagers, I'm crafting an actual story, Kink Meme, Lots of Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Porn With Plot, Sex, This is not 100 raunchy and explicit one shots, be warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-04-15 01:02:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14148513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bronte/pseuds/Bronte
Summary: Cue Spring Fever #3.A 100 Kinks Story.





	1. 1-5

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to another episode of 'Bronte Writes Another Smut Challenge'! This time, I'll be tackling the 100 Kinks Challenge, as linked below. 
> 
> Be warned! I'm crafting an actual story here. This is not 100 raunchy and explicit one-shots. Please keep this in mind before dragging me in the comments (or more popularly, on Tumblr!)
> 
> This will be a connecting drabble series I’ll do in my spare time when I feel so inclined. They'll be short and part of a whole story! Chapters will be posted individually on Tumblr, so feel free to follow me at ao3bronte.tumblr.com! Otherwise, I'll be posting every 5 prompts here on AO3!
> 
> Do you have an idea? Leave a comment! Want to sponsor a kink? Buy me a coffee at ko-fi.com/bronte

Based on the [100 Kinks Challenge](http://all-of-the-ships-are-sailing.tumblr.com/post/86601537822/100-kinks-nsfw).

# 1\. Kissing

The ides of March have passed, the last of the tendrils of winter easing up on the frozen grounds of _Le Champ-de-Mars_ surrounding the Eiffel Tower. The first blades of grass are beginning to poke through the sod, the first of the daffodil bulbs are sprouting and eager to find a sliver of sunlight amidst the lingering chill. Tourists and residents alike are shedding layers, no longer bundled in down filled coats and thick woolen scarves to stave off the bitter wind and the falling snow. Yves Saint Laurent jackets and Hunter rubber boots are the latest of trends and Ladybug wastes no time sketching every flower brocade trench coat and jacquard jacket she sees if only to distract her from what’s really bothering her.

Spring has inevitably sprung.

It’ll be her third as Ladybug, having found her powers in early September when she was only fourteen. Things had been easy then, compared to how they were now; he hadn’t quite caught up to her in terms of his...shall we say, _development_ back then, so neither of them were really affected.

Then came Spring Fever #2.

She’d been making fun of him all winter, his terrible puns made absolutely hilarious by his cracking voice and ever changing pitch. In revenge, he’d somehow willed his body to grow another 10cm at least, which he continuously rubbed in her face by setting his elbow down on the crown of her head or pretending to lose her because he couldn’t see her ‘all the way down there’. She’d kicked him in the shin for that one several times and he’d complain and complain about having a permanent bruise even though they both knew the suits protected them from even the hardest of hits. It was satisfying regardless; how dare he continue to grow and change and…

Be hot?

See, it wasn’t something she readily admitted to herself but lo and behold, he’d gone from string bean to specimen in a blink of an eye. It was like one moment, he was Chat Noir and then the next moment, he was _Chat Noir._ Suddenly he had a cheering squad of teenaged girls and more blogs devoted to his leather clad behind than she had in total. It was weird and it made her kind of...jealous? Honestly, she hadn’t been entirely sure what she was feeling until one fateful afternoon when he’d landed beside her during an akuma attack and her whole world changed in an instant.

Tikki had explained it later on that evening in all of its terrible, explicit glory. ‘Sometimes our kwarmi traits rub off on you and it makes you want to rub off on each other’ was the general gist of it, and Marinette was tempted to throw herself off the ledge of her balcony more than once. How dare all of this happen to her? She already had to balance being a superhero, her schoolwork and her responsibilities at the bakery and now? Now she had to deal with a love scenario that sounded like it came straight out of a sci-fi teenage romance?

“You’re in heat!” Tikki had announced happily, patting her own rosy cheeks with her tiny pixie paws, “It’s completely natural and it happens _all_ the time.”

“All the time?!” she’d responded, her eyes rivalling the circumference of saucers, “What does that even mean?!”

Tikki had tapped her chin thoughtfully, “Remember when Mme. Mouret was talking about animal mating cycles the other afternoon?”

Marinette had already known where this was going, “People don’t just have mating cycles Tikki.”

“You’re special Marinette!”

“And what if I don’t want to be?”

Tikki had just laughed, “It’s completely natural, and Chat Noir is just as affected. You two were made for each other after all.”

“I was made for Adrien,” she’d sulked, staring forlornly at the clothing and perfume ads taped to her walls, “I don’t want to love Chat Noir.”

“Think of it this way, you’ll be a really great kisser for Adrien after all of this practice!”

“TIKKI!”

The god of creation had begun giggling so hysterically that she’d started to hiccup, twirling in circles to get away from Marinette’s swatting palms, “It’ll be fun! And completely natural. I’m sure Plagg will tell his holder just the same.”

Marinette had buried her face in her palms and groaned spectacularly, faceplanting onto her mattress as dramatically as she possibly could, “I hate this.”

“For now,” Tikki had responded cryptically, which led Marinette to the present day. Last year, it had taken a month of pheromone induced torture before Marinette had given in and just kissed him already, which had been _absolutely fantastic_ once they’d stopped clacking teeth and bumping noses. They’d kissed against walls and on rooftops and in soaking wet fountains. They’d kissed on top of the _Arc de Triomphe_ and _la Place des Vosges_ and along the streets of _Montmartre_ and _la Place des Abbesses_ , even l _a Moulin Rouge_. She was fairly sure there wasn’t a single place in Paris where they hadn’t kissed, to be frank, and Marinette was more than fine with that.

So long as it didn’t go any farther.

But now things were different, the buzz in her mind no longer stuck between her skull. Somehow, this mysterious buzz that had begged her to press her lips to his had migrated to her abdomen and was now begging her to all sorts of other things she wasn’t quite sure how to do, with _him._ And if this buzz was telling her to do these things to him, she could only imagine what sort of things it was telling him to do to her!

Luckily, when it came to the buzz, Chat Noir turned into the proverbial runt of the litter. Last spring he’d shaken like a leaf every time she’d approached him, scared to death of doing something that would scare her and push her away forever. It wasn’t until the last few weeks of June that he’d finally stopped mewling like a starving kitten at the sight of her, but by then the throes of their heat was over and everything had gone back to normal.

Cue Spring Fever #3.  


 

# 2\. Discovering Boundaries

Adrien knew a lot of things. He knew his best angles, poses and positions in front of the camera. He knew how to change his strut and his stance based on the show, the season and the type of outfit he was wearing. He even knew how to do calculus and physics and all sorts of other things, like being able to recite a thousand different facts about French history and literature by heart.

For all intents and purposes, Adrien was a very smart boy.

This, however, did not help his current predicament in the slightest.

“How am I supposed to get rid of an akuma when I can't even get rid of this?!”

Adrien is thankful that he's hiding behind a row of hedges as the wild gesturing towards his crotch would have surely attracted the wrong sort of attention.

“Would you like me to leave a hole?” Plagg snickers and the resulting image that pops up in Adrien’s thoughts makes him want to curl up and die, “Ladybug wouldn't be able to look away!”

“This isn't funny!” Adrien stammers through his embarrassment, staring down at the tent in his jeans, “I can barely walk like this, I can't fight!”

Plagg grins, his fangs glinting in the sun, “Kid, it's not _that_ big, you can manage.”

“PLAGG!” Adrien tugs at his hair as the tiny god continues to laugh at his expense, “You're not helping!”

“Face it kid, you've got another three months of this so you better get used to it.”

“Ugghhh,” Adrien rubs his hands up and down his face and tries to imagine the grossest thing he can possibly think of, “I hate this.”

Plagg peeks over his holder’s shoulder at the raging akuma battle taking place behind them and hovers closer, “As much as I'm having fun watching you suffer, Rena Rouge could probably use your help.”

Something resembling a sob and a scream put together escapes Adrien’s lips as he vainly attempts to pull himself together, “Damnit...Plagg, transforme-moi!”

There's no time to look down at his suit as Chat Noir launches himself at the tentacle creature holding Rena Rouge aloft, but he can feel the Plagg inspired difference immediately. For all the kwarmi’s razzing, he's always been particularly sympathetic when it comes to accommodating his...needs, for lack of a better word. The little black cat regularly made himself scarce when he needed his privacy and had no qualms in altering the suit for a better fit so long as he was aptly rewarded with cheese.

“And look what the cat finally dragged in,” Rena Rouge grouses, landing on all fours after a precise smack from Chat’s baton above her head, “About time!”

“Sorry!” Chat apologizes weakly, narrowly dodging a flailing tentacle, “I was a little...ugh...busy?”

“Mmhmm,” Rena Rouge jabs her flute into one of the monster’s suckers and turns to him with a knowing look, “Ladybug mentioned that you’d been acting strangely this week and now I know why. Is that a baton in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

Conveniently, Chat takes this opportunity to trip over his own tail, “ _What?!_ ”

“It’s spring, I get it. Don’t you think I remember what you two were like last year?” Rena Rouge rolls her eyes, “I wish you two would just get it together already, you wouldn’t _believe_ how much better you’ll feel.”

The gigantic angry purple octopus calling itself ‘Octomom’ begins to descend on them rapidly with its razor sharp teeth and Rena takes pity on her flailing friend, yanking him out of harm’s reach by his bell. Leaping as high as she can, the Fox Miraculous holder glances up at the sky for any sign of Ladybug before dragging Chat behind her and finding some higher ground.

“Wait...what?” Chat wheezes, clutching at his throat.

“Well, instead of taking turns crying on my partner’s shoulder like the two of you did to me last year, I actually acted on my heat instincts and boy, let me tell you, my boyfriend was more than happy to help me work off some steam.”

“You...” Chat tries to find some sense of dignity and self discipline and finds neither, “You have a _boyfriend_?!”

“Of course I do, have you looked at this lately?” Rena gestures to her body with a wink and a smirk, “What you will also see is a woman who can walk straight, talk straight and actually use her brain because I’m handling all this. The secret? _Get laid_.”

Chat winces as the octopus monster slowly lumbers towards them, roaring incoherently about diapers and childcare all the while, “But I caaan’t!”

“And why not?” Rena rolls her eyes with a huff, “Look, let me be your wingman alright? We’ll come up with a plan together and figure this all out but right now, we have bigger fish to fry. Come on!”  


 

# 3\. On the Sofa

Unfortunately, the attempt to drown himself in the cushions of his sofa isn’t going very well, judging by the fact that he’s still breathing, embarrassed and very much alive. Adrien groans just to prove his miserable existence and lurches over onto his side, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Are you done yet? I’m hungry.”

Adrien scrunches his eyes shut and relives the memory over and over again, the flood of embarrassment nearly unstoppable, “I hate my liiiiife.”

“Big deal,” Plagg drops onto the armrest of his holder’s couch and lays across the length of it, “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m hungry.”

“Go feed yourself,” Adrien grumbles, scrubbing his face with his hands, “I’m never going to be able to look at her in the eye again.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Plagg scooches closer and peers over the cushion, “I thought it was hilarious.”

The flashback comes surging back to him like a tidal wave and Adrien actually winces as he recalls the moment once more. He and Rena Rouge had been fighting Octomom when she’d finally appeared and landed beside him, Ladybug in all her glory. He’d been so distracted by her sudden appearance that he hadn’t noticed the tentacle coming at him until it was too late, the appendage knocking him nearly two blocks down the road.

And that wasn’t even the worst part.

Once he’d shaken the stars from his eyes and stumbled back to his feet, he’d rejoined the fight and there she was again, shouting orders and flinging her yoyo and…

...she...she just…

...she smelled like wild strawberry tarts on a warm sunny day and looked like a goddess, like the one with the waves crashing behind her except she’s not naked like the statue in the Louvre is because her body, her body in that suit is incredible, amazing, gorgeous, _everything_ —

Freezing, Chat had clamped his hands over his mouth, his eyes blown wide with the realisation that he’d just said everything he’d been thinking out loud.

Rena had given up trying to keep it together, pointing and laughing hysterically and Ladybug wasn’t any better, standing there with a gobsmacked expression, her throwing arm still half raised. Mentally, Chat prayed to every deity he could think of and begged them to just smite him already, screaming internally as Ladybug took a wary step forward and raised her eyebrows with concern.

“Chat, are you okay? You’re...you’re turning blue...are you breathing?”

Chat had shaken his head instinctively, his eyes nearly bulging out his skull as she reached towards him. Hesitantly, she’d plucked his fingers from where they’d been glued to his traitorous mouth, peeling them back so as to uncover, but all that had come out was a terrible high pitched wheeze of unadulterated embarrassment. Wincing, Ladybug had replaced his hand and stepped back, her face still showing an alarming mixture of apprehension and concern.

“Oookay then,” Ladybug started swinging her yoyo idly again, tactfully ignoring Rena’s guffaws from behind her, “We still have an akuma to catch. Can we all try and keep it together until then?”

Mortified, Chat had nodded vigorously and promptly threw himself off the ledge of the roof.

Back on his sofa, Adrien curls up even further and mentally berates himself for even bothering to open his mouth because only really stupid things seemed to come out of it lately. He’d even managed to embarrassed himself in front of Nino, Alya and Marinette today too, blurting his undying affection for Ladybug out loud in the middle of their study period. Miserable, Adrien mentally vows to stop talking in public for the next three months and groans aloud, rolling onto his back.

“This sucks.”

“You’re telling me kid,” Plagg scratches at his ear with his back leg, “I’m the one stuck with you.”

“You’re the whole reason I’m like this in the first place!”

Plagg shrugs, “So what? It’s your fault.”

Adrien spins around and gawks at him, “What?! How this my fault?!”

“Because you’re not doing anything about it?” Plagg cups his chin in his palms and leers at his holder over the edge of the cushion, “I mean, besides giving yourself carpal tunnel syndrome.”

Grimacing, Adrien groans and returns to his fetal position, lamenting his very existence. He’d learned the hard way last year about dealing with, what did Nino call them? NARBs? He’d been in class the first time it had happened last March and he’d pretty much panicked, which led to an uncomfortable but ultimately informative conversation with Nino. His bro always had his back when it came to dude problems but this spring, these ‘No Apparent Reason Boners’ were already getting a little out of hand.

Speaking of hands, Adrien palms himself through the fabric of his pyjama pants and stares dejectedly down at the source of his humiliation. If only he could just…Adrien sighs and wonders if Rena really does have a point after all. She seemed to be her normal self and he knew just as well that she suffered the same heat related symptoms as he and Ladybug did. She had said that the only reason she was functioning was because she had a boyfriend who was more than happy to help her out…

Ladybug is like the sun, untouchable, brilliant and ultimately too good for him. There would be no way that she would deign to be his partner in things other than fighting akuma and the occasional ‘the heat is too much and we need to simmer down if we’re going to win this fight’ kiss, especially since she’d rejected his plea for an actual relationship several times over the past two and a half years, but...

Maybe Rena Rouge was right. If she can have a civilian boyfriend, then maybe he can have a civilian girlfriend too.

  


# 4\. Masturbation

Marinette flops face first onto her mattress and spares herself the pomp and circumstance, loosening the drawstring around her waist and going at it the only way she knows how. She’d literally thrown cookies at Tikki, a clear a sign as any that she was in need of some personal time, and ran up the ladder to her bed to try and dull the ever present edge driving her insane.

She’s as taut as a live wire, her fingers working wonders between her thighs after only a matter of seconds. She’s slick and eager and it’s impossible not to imagine her best friend, his voice in her ear, his blond hair, his bare chest and bare feet on the runway during fashion week, his skin gently kissed by the sun. She imagines running her fingernails across his abdomen, her palms against his shoulders, her lips on his neck—

_“Oh!”_

She grinds her centre into the mattress, trapping her hand between her body and the sheets and the feeling is fantastic, amazing, addicting and exactly what she needed, her fingers dipping back between her folds. She’s still heady with it, her vision spinning with stars and she lets her instincts take the wheel for a moment, her hips undulating at a furious rhythm. She bites down hard on the edge of her pillowcase and squeezes her eyes shut, desperate to keep quiet except it feels so damn good she just wants to scream out loud and shout it from the rooftops and dig her teeth into the muscles of his shoulders and bruise him for weeks…

Marinette pauses for a second and blinks several times, filing that particular thought for later.

Except…

It would be so hot though, now that she thinks about it, marking him so people would know he’s taken no matter where he goes. He’d have to show up to photoshoots and his make-up artists would have to cover it it concealer but it would still be their dirty little secret, one only they would know about. He’d think of her every time he’d raise his arms for the camera and feel the sting of her teeth on his skin, ever present and achy like that feeling you get after a really good workout. He’d think of her every time he’d move and he’d look into the camera just so, and she’d know his thoughts were of her.

She’s grinding her hips against her palm now, imagining the way she’d trace the seam of his bruise with her tongue and she’s so close, her fingertips drawing furious circles against her clit like her life depends on it and it’s too much, it’s too much and she can feel it cresting, the sparks bursting haphazardly in her abdomen like a fireworks factory about to explode. She shoves her face back into her pillow to muffle the sounds cascading from her lips and rubs her clit mercilessly, squeezing her eyes shut as she arcs off the mattress with the force of her orgasm, white and blinding.

She opens her eyes some indeterminate time later to the voice of her mother shouting from the base of the stairs, letting her know that dinner is on the table. She jerks upwards and wipes her hand off on the pant leg of her pyjamas before descending the ladder and checking her appearance in the mirror quickly. Her cheeks are pink, her lower lip swollen from where she’d been chewing on it and there’d be no hiding what she’d been doing, the sheen of sweat on her brow all but screaming that’d she’d been indulging herself. Grumbling, she lets her hair down and hopes it hides some of her flushed skin and hopes for the best. Maybe she could tell her parents she was doing sit ups or something?

Snatching her mobile from her desk, Marinette glances up at the calendar. Spring was only three months long, surely she and her hand could manage for another season, right?

 _Famous last words_ , she thought to herself.

  


# 5\. Bodily Fluids

“Hey bro!”

Nino waves enthusiastically from the stone steps of their lycée as Adrien hops out of the Mercedes and he returns the gesture, happy for the distraction. He jogs over to where Nino is standing and bumps fists, eager to catch up with his best bro.

“Dude, am I glad to see you,” Nino says, clapping him on the back as they head inside for their first class, “Alya has been acting so crazy lately and I don’t know who else I can talk to about it.”

Adrien raises his brows in concern, “Crazy? Like, as in bad crazy?”

“Nah man,” Nino shakes his head and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “Just like...I don’t even know how to describe it dude. She knows I’m grounded this week and I don’t have my phone but do you know what she did? She literally scaled the fire escape to my building and snuck in through my window last night.”

“She what?!”

“I know right? Sneaking in through my window?” Nino raises his voice in disbelief, “What kind of next level crazy is that?”

Adrien nods his head and places his hand on Nino’s shoulder, “That’s pretty wild man. What did she want anyway?”

Nino pauses in his stride and turns his head slowly, eyeing his best friend warily, “Dude.”

“What?”

“Duuuude,” Nino shakes his head, staring down at the floor briefly before glancing back up at him, “Sometimes I forget how sheltered you are.”

Adrien blinks, “I’m not following.”

“Alya and I? You know how we’re a thing?”

“Yeah?”

“And do you know what teenagers do sometimes?”

“Uh…,” Adrien still isn’t following, “Go on dates?”

Nino facepalms, “Oh my god bro. I mean, Alya and I go on dates but that’s not what I mean.”

“Dude, I am so confused right now.”

“Okay okay,” Nino grabs both his shoulders and looks at him imploringly, “When a girl and a boy love each other, sometimes they do more than just kiss.”

Adrien blinks, his expression searching.

Nino closes his eyes and asks for patience, “Sex bro. I’m talking about sex.”

“Ohhhhhhhhh!” Adrien begins to nod in understanding, the very thing he’d been trying to avoid cropping up suddenly in his thoughts. Nino rolls his eyes and shakes his head in exasperation, readjusting the cap on his head.

“Dude, you can be so dense sometimes,” Nino remarks, restarting their trek across campus, “Like, seriously.”

Adrien rushes to catch up with him, “It’s not my fault. It’s not like I have many people in my life I can talk to about that...kind of thing.”

“No kidding bro,” Nino commiserates, slowing in his stride, “And speak of the devil.”

Adrien follows Nino’s gaze and spots Alya and Marinette across the hall, chatting by the closed door of their homeroom. The two of them weave through the crowd of students and make their way over, waving hello.

“Good morning!” Adrien greets them, his smile spreading across his cheeks. He’s about to continue when Alya all but shoves him out of the way and launches herself at Nino, kissing him spectacularly on the lips.

“Uhh…” Adrien turns his head and catches Marinette’s eye, her expression of disbelief surely mirroring his. They both sidestep away from the couple and stand silently for a moment, unsure of how to react.

“They’re uhh…” Adrien tries to think of something nice to say and comes up empty handed. Marinette peels her eyes away from where Alya is practically devouring her profusely blushing boyfriend and glances back up towards him.

“Making a scene?” Marinette finishes his sentence in an attempt to tune out the smacking of lips happening less than a metre away, “Aaaanyway, how are you this morning?”

“Good I guess?” Adrien responds, still reeling from the events from the past few minutes. His best bro is having sex? How is that even possible? He can’t even ask the girl of his dreams out on a date and he’s a _superhero_ , for goodness sakes. He’s got to get Nino to teach him his secrets.

“Hey, what’s that in your hair?” Marinette turns her head to the side, her eyes glued somewhere near his left temple, “It looks like hair gel or something…”

Hair gel? Adrien thinks back on his morning routine and only remembers spraying dry shampoo on his roots since he’d run out of time for a shower, having spent those ten minutes masturbating…

_Oh god._

Marinette reaches up before he can stop her, wiping the come from his hairline with her index finger. He turns an awful shade of plum as she looks down at it briefly before wiping it on the fabric of her jeans with a shrug, “There, I think I got it all off. Wouldn’t want you walking around with a glob of hair gel on your face all day.”

Adrien forcibly unglues his tongue from the roof of his mouth and tries to will his lungs to breathe, “Th-th-thanks.”

“No problem!” she beams, her smile as radiant as he’s ever seen it, “After all, what are best friends for?”


	2. 6-10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They don't want me to have another CHAPTER  
> So I made sure I got another CHAPTER  
> It's We The Best BRONTE
> 
> That's right sinners.  
> Is it just me?  
> Or is this sex so good I shouldn't have to write for free?
> 
> (My smut inspo playlist is LIT today, thanks Drake!)

# 6\. Oral Sex

“Babe, what has gotten into you?”

Hidden away in the back corner of their lycée’s _théâtre_ , Alya corners her boyfriend behind the curtains with the kind of smirk that Nino’s only ever seen on a predatory animal about to eat their prey.

“I’ve got spring fever,” Alya presses her palm against his abdomen, her eyes raking all the way up his body before stopping at his lips, “And I’ve only got you on my mind.”

Nino gulps as her fingers tip toe up his chest, pausing at the hem of his t-shirt, “Is this gonna be like last year?”

Ayla raises a brow and snakes her other arm around his waist, teasing the waistband of his jeans, “Yup, only better.”

She’s undoing the buckle of his belt before he can so much as utter a response, her fingertips quickly divesting him of reason as she shoves his jeans and boxers down in one go. There’s that coy expression again, the one that’s already got him half hard even though they could be caught at any given time and it’d be _him_ with his pants around his knees. She’s sinking to the stage floor and watching him beneath the forest of her lashes, her tongue wetting her lips and _fuck_ , he doesn’t know how she does it but she’s got him in the palm of her hand in an instant, both figuratively and literally, and all he can do is bless his lucky stars and hold on for the ride.

“Ahh…” Nino’s head falls back against the soundproofing as she starts up an eager rhythm, taking the head of his cock into her mouth and dragging her fingers up and down his shaft. Her pace is fast and furious and Nino has no doubt that her intention is to drive him insane as fast as she possibly can. Everything is a competition to her, let’s be honest, and he buries his fingers in her hair and increases the pressure ever so slightly, delighting on the sloppy sounds she makes.

Using her free hand, Alya lets her fingers wander, tracing absent patterns against the sensitive skin of his hips and thighs. She touches him everywhere she can reach and relishes in the way he moans her name, breathless and wanton and _damn,_ she’s got to squeeze her thighs together to keep herself from losing her focus to the sound of his voice alone.

“Alya,” Nino garbles, his eyes fluttering closed as the tension is his abdomen reaches a fever pitch, “Babe, I’m... _ah!”_

Nino bucks against the wall as Alya anchors him, holding his steady and he’s coming quickly, gasping her name like a muffled prayer into the back of his hand. She pulls back ever so slightly but doesn’t dare stop, humming against his shaft and _god_ , he doesn’t know what’s gotten into her but he’s not complaining, and how can he when she crawls back up his body with a dribble of come spilling from the corner of her lips. Gaping, he files that particular image in his brain for later and lets gravity have its way with him, slumping bonelessly against the wall.

Alya juts her hips to the side and towers over him as he slowly sinks to the floor, “What’d you think babe?”

Speechless, Nino just stares up at her agog, his mouth falling open as she wipes the come from her face with the back of her hand and winks.

 

# 7\. Something New

The sun has long dipped behind the horizon as Chat Noir prowls his patrol route for the third time this evening, more frustrated than anything. His thought process hasn’t unearthed anything of use, the fresh air having failed both him and his sluggish train of thought. Hissing, Chat thunks his baton a little too hard against the cobbles, shattering a few beneath him and only feels the slightest bit guilty as he lands on the rooftops of _Notre Dame de Paris_.

Weaving through the flying buttresses, Chat crouches beside one of the gargoyles and stares at it pensively. Is that what Ladybug sees when she looks at him? A gargoyle? Grumbling, Chat scrapes his claws against the stone sculpture and wonders why she’d rejected him for what feels like the upteenth time again.

Marinette, one of his best friends from school, had said something that had made so much sense to him this morning, and her words still rung true in his ears. Ladybug was his ultimate best friend and best friends were always there for each other, so why did she reject his proposal? Maybe he came on too strong? Maybe he should have been more honest? Maybe he should have said it in a different way?

Earlier that evening, he’d asked Ladybug if she wanted to do the kiss thing again. She’d shrugged nonchalantly and agreed, but mentioned offhandedly that it probably wouldn’t be enough this time. He’d agreed wholeheartedly, having spent every waking moment of his day fighting with his traitorous sex drive, and lightly suggested that they try solving this whole sex dilemma with each other.

And she’d laughed.

She’d laughed! At him! After suggesting they try and solve a problem together! He doesn’t know whether she’d realised that he wasn’t joking, but she’d laughed it off regardless and commended him on being actually funny for once. Chat didn’t know what to think, but leaving without saying goodbye probably wasn’t the right answer.

Which had inevitably led him here. Hormonal. Emotional. Alone.

He scowls at the gargoyle and scales one of the larger pinnacles, perching precariously on top of it. From here he could see all of Paris, its glimmering lights against the Seine, the towers and buildings and boulevards stretching out against the horizon. It’s beautiful and it’s the exact opposite of how he feels but it’s better than watching reruns of Voltron in his bedroom with nothing but his dick and a wad of tissues to keep him company.

A flash of light catches his eye in the distance and he turns his head to the right, the fairy lights of Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s balcony flickering to life. He watches her silhouette cross over the platform and pause at the edge, her likeness fiddling with what looks like hanging herb boxes along the wrought iron railings. A thought crosses his mind and he seizes it for a lack of anything better to do, leaping off the pinnacle with a flourish and landing on Marinette’s roof only a few seconds later.

“Good evening,” Chat Noir announces his presence from the eaves, waving a paw as she spins around and crouches into a defensive stance. The movement is both instinctive and hilarious; Chat knows full well that she wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“Chat Noir!” Marinette’s eyes grow wide once she recognises who he is and flounders immediately, stumbling backwards until she manages to get control of her legs, “What are you doing here?”

“Just thought I’d stop by,” he replies, shifting his weight onto his toes, “I was taking a break on _la cathédrale_ when I noticed you on the roof.”

“Oh!” Marinette nods, her eyes searching his expression closely. He knows this look intimately; Marinette has always been good at pointing out liars when she sees them, “Well, that’s alright then. Do you plan to stay long?”

“Um,” Chat wonders if this is her way of telling him to get lost, “I guess not? I don’t know.”

Marinette’s posture softens ever so slightly, “Are you okay Chat?”

“Huh?” Chat blinks, having zoned out momentarily. Something smells delicious and he tries to shake the fuzzy feeling from his brain, “I’m uh, feline great! No worries here.”

Marinette’s eyes narrow, “What’s going on?”

It’s not a question so much as a strongly worded request and Chat feels compelled to acquiesce, her voice drawing him closer, “Nothing’s wrong, it’s uh...everything is all good. There’s no crime to report tonight, no akuma, no burglars, no robberies. All is well.”

“With Paris maybe,” Marinette gestures with her hand for him to join her at her level, “But what’s wrong with you?”

“I…” Chat really doesn't want to say anything but there’s something clearly wrong with the wiring between his brain and his mouth and it all starts to come out in a gush, “MybestfriendkindofmadefunofmetonightandIdon’tknowwhattodo.”

Marinette blinks in surprise and takes a moment to digest what he’d just blurted out, “Your best...do you mean Ladybug?”

“Yes!” Chat slumps against the railings beside her and stares forlornly towards the Seine in the distance, “We kind of have this...thing that needs solving and I suggested we solve it together and she laughed at me like it was the stupidest idea in the world.”

“She did?” Marinette’s voice sharply rises in pitch, “I...I see.”

“It wasn’t even that far fetched of an idea,” Chat wilts even further, “And while I get why she rejected the idea, I don’t understand why she would just...laugh at me about it.”

Marinette is quiet for a while, “Do you think she may have just misunderstood what you meant?”

“I don’t know how,” Chat replies, flicking one of the fairy lights with his claw, “I’ve been crazy about her for years.”

“So this...thing that needs solving is about how you have a crush on her?”

“No? Yes?” Chat sighs as if all the weight of the world is on his shoulders, “If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to tell anyone?”

“A secret?” Marinette pulls a face, “If it’s a secret about your superpowers, shouldn’t you keep it a secret?”

Chat turns her way, “I trust you. I...I don’t have anyone to share this kind of stuff with. This is my first time.”

“You barely even know me.”

“That’s not true,” Chat’s lips turn up ever so slightly, “We’ve run into each other more times than I can count and you’re always brave and helpful every time. I admire that about you.”

He doesn’t miss the blush that creeps up onto her cheeks at his words, “Th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome, although I understand if you don’t want me to share. I can keep it to myself if you want.”

“No no,” Marinette waves her hands in front of her, “That’s okay. You can share with me if you want, I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pinkie promise.”

Chat smirks as she extends her pinkie and he mirrors the gesture, squeezing lightly around their woven fingers in agreement, “Okay well, here’s the thing…”  


# 8\. Romantic Evening

Everything changed after that evening.

_Everything._

Suddenly his best friend at school became his confidante in all aspects of his life and somehow, he’d been spending more time on the chaise of her balcony than even he knew how to explain. She’d bring him day old pastries from the bakery and they’d laugh and joke and tell stories together by romantic candlelight, bright and fun and fancy free.

Until it wasn’t.

Six days into their official friendship, Chat let his mouth run again. He’d been very vague at the beginning when he’d explained his heat symptoms, basically outlining the signs in the most SFW way he could come up with, but he’d been spilling more and more details as time went on. She seemed way more sympathetic than he expected and...almost interested? Or invested at least. She seemed to want to help him solve this just as much as he did.

So when he told her that Rena Rouge was solving her situation with a civilian, he was more than just a little surprised at her response.

“She _told_ you?!”

Chat’s eyes grow wide, “Um...yes?”

Marinette slaps her hand against her forehead, “Don’t you two know anything about keeping your identities a secret? Ugh.”

“Ummm…”

“Sorry Chat,” Marinette immediately begins to redden, turning away from where he’d been sprawled on her chaise like a therapy patient, “I uh, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“Oookay…” Chat folds himself upright and approaches her from behind, “But you said it anyway. What did you mean?”

“I’m just...worried.”

“Worried?”

“Well yeah,” Marinette shrugs her shoulders and refuses to look at him as he settles against the railings beside her, “She may have put her civilian boyfriend in danger if she’s told him anything about being Rena Rouge. If Le Papillon gets a hold of him…”

“I don’t think she’s told him anything beyond what I’ve told you about our spring fever,” Chat replies honestly, recalling his conversation with Rena from a few weeks ago, “And he’s being super supportive from what she’s told me. She’s very lucky to have someone who’s willing to help her through.”

“She is…” Marinette trails off, staring out into the distance, “Have you thought about it?”

“About what?”

“About getting a civilian girlfriend? Or boyfriend, I don’t want to assume.”

Chat laughs out his nose and ducks his head, “It’s crossed my mind.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Marinette looks thoughtful for a moment, tapping her chin lightly with her fingers, “There must be someone out there who you could start dating.”

Chat takes in her profile against the glittering lights of Paris and grimaces through the bitter taste of rejection in his mouth, “Yeah…”

So much for a romantic evening.  


# 9\. First Time

Chat Noir is, quite literally, a genius.

She knew he was smart, his tactical skills and efficiency on the battlefield completely unparallelled, but Ladybug had no idea that Chat Noir could be so intelligent in other aspects of his life too. And yeah, maybe she’d been selling him a little short all this time but still; his carefree attitude could grate on her nerves sometimes and he was a shameless flirt, even if his claims of being in love with her alter ego were actually true, so it was no wonder that she didn’t take him quite as seriously as he would like.

Regardless, it should have occurred to her that she should take on a civilian boyfriend before Chat had mentioned it.

Rena Rouge was Alya and Alya had Nino. Marinette had no one, but it was no secret that Ladybug had a continent full of devoted potential lovers who would be more than willing to help her with her spring fever. One citizen came to mind immediately, one that she’d been fantasizing about for _years_ , and she had it on good authority that he was a _huge_ Ladybug fan.

So before her senses could catch up to her (and quite frankly, they had long since evaporated much to Tikki’s frantic jitters), Marinette had called her kwarmi into her earrings and flown off her balcony shortly after Chat had left for the night.

This isn’t the first time she’s happened to swing her way over to Adrien’s house and it won’t be the last if her hormones have anything to say about it. She’s practically itching with sexual tension as she lands on his neighbour’s rooftop and pumps her fist in victory when she sees his bedroom windows come alight.

She sneaks onto the mansion’s expansive grounds, deftly landing as close as she possibly can without alerting him to her presence and watches as he throws himself onto his mattress face first. He must be tired, she realises, but the thought quickly evaporates as she takes in the curve of his ass in those designer jeans and suddenly her suit is way too hot and way too tight for her to handle.

She’s clearly lost control of her body, she thinks, only mildly horrified as she jumps from the relative safety of the roof to his window sill. He’s not looking her way so it’s not like she has to worry and _god_ , she could just eat him right now, his blond hair dishevelled so perfectly, his bare arms perfectly tanned. Even his socked feet look attractive, they way they dangle off the ledge, just hanging there and then there are his legs, _oh_ , his legs! They’re so perfectly shaped they might as well been carved from marble! She just wants to have her way with them, with him, with his whole body and mind and soul and _what the hell is she talking about?_

She can’t just march into his room and demand he have sex with her!

…

Can she?

Her heart is pounding loudly in her ears, her common sense overwhelmed by the desire to press her skin against him. Her sight narrows, her breath forming a small cloud against the glass as she leans closer, desperate to taste his skin and devour him whole—

_NO!_

Marinette reels backwards, the implications of her behaviours finally thwacking through her ridiculous train of thought. Panicking, she hops back to where she’d been hidden before and tries to get a hold of herself, appalled and embarrassed and everything in between.

She’s bumping her forehead repeatedly against the HVAC when she spots him rolling onto his back, his forearm draped over his eyes and he’s...oh my god, is that what...he’s... _is he taking off his belt?!_

Ladybug buries her face in her hands and squeaks out loud, her fantasies coming to life. How many times had her stupid, heat addled brain thought about this? About watching him as Ladybug, about watching him get changed or catching him getting out of the shower, shirtless and...maybe naked? Oh yes, definitely naked. She’d thought about it a lot and her train of thought promptly derails as she watches him unbuckle his jeans and...is he?

Is he touching himself?

Marinette has never seen a penis in real life before and the possibility of it happening here is suddenly skyrocketing as he uses his other hand to shimmy the waistband of his jeans down past his ass, his eyes still determinedly closed. His briefs are everything she’d thought they’d be, having stolen a peek once or twice when she’d gone through his gym bag while he was in fencing class. Gross invasion of privacy? Yes, but does her heat addled brain actually care?

Not a bit.

And it’s certainly starting to short circuit now, time moving in slow motion as he reaches passed the elastic band and shoves those down and grabs onto...grabs onto _it_ and is he going to pull it out? He’s moving his hand up and down and she’s entranced by the rhythm, the slow rocking of his hands beneath the fabric. He's doing something she can’t see with the other hand and she can’t seem to peel her eyes away, entranced and utterly focused and fascinated by the way his tempo seems to match the pulse between her thighs.

_Oh!_

The briefs are shoved down and Ladybug’s eyes bulge out of her skull because _that_ is a penis.

Ladybug immediately covers her eyes and starts making sounds that would make a pterodactyl shudder, cursing all the while. What is she doing?! Why is she watching Adrien, her celebrity crush, her number one obsession touch his...thing? God, it’s embarrassing to think about, what should she call it? Penis sounds weird, dick reminds her of Nino’s favourite insult (“dick move bruh”) and cock? That’s a rooster!

Blushing furiously, she peeks through her fingers and screeches as he keeps on rubbing it up and down like he’s evening out a piping bag and she doesn’t know how she’s going to be able to face him tomorrow morning, not with the way he’s worrying his lower lip between his teeth like he’s trying not to make a sound. His eyes are closed and his chest is rising and falling rapidly and Ladybug is briefly reminded of Alya’s all too explicit description of orgasms and how a man’s _éclair_ , as Alya had so helpfully put it for her, bursts with _pastry cream_ when he gets off and Marinette had all but killed Alya for that particular visual during lunch the other day, especially because she could hardly look at choux pastry anymore without wanting to crawl in a hole and die.

Unconsciously, Ladybug’s hand trails down her body and soon she’s rubbing herself through her suit as Adrien’s hand increases in tempo, his legs bending at the knees as he thrusts his hips into the air once, twice, three times and Ladybug’s lips part with a gasp as Adrien seizes, arching off of his mattress as come spills over her fingers, pooling on the exposed skin of his abdomen and _fuck_ if that isn’t the hottest, most bizarre thing she’s ever seen in her life.

He twitches a few times before ultimately collapsing back onto his bed like he wants it to swallow him and Ladybug suddenly wonders what swallowing him must be like which, wow...where did _that_ thought come from? Maybe thinking about éclairs is making her hungry? Hungry for him is more like it and Ladybug wrenches her hand from where its been buried between her legs and ventures closer for some stupid, inexplicable reason because nothing in her brain is working like it should.

Which, of course, is why she slips.

 

# 10\. Blindfolds

“Ladybug?”

Facedown on the flashing beside Adrien’s bedroom, Ladybug briefly wonders if dying would be a better fate than looking up.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?”

“‘m fine,” Ladybug moans into the shingles and finally lifts her head of the rooftop, “I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” Adrien’s voice is both concerned and oddly shaky which, you know, is understandable given he’d just _burst his éclair_ , “Do you want me to come out and help you?”

“Nope,” she groans and pushes herself to the feet, busying herself with brushing off the dust on her suit so as not to look this way, “So uh, I’ll just be going now.”

“Wait!”

Ladybug freezes and listens as Adrien’s window opens wider, “You could...come in if you want?”

If he says come one more time, she’s quite certain she’ll explode, “Huh?”

“I mean,” Adrien makes an odd sniffing sound with his nose and Ladybug turns around out of curiosity, “You smell really good.”

Ladybug gawks and Adrien immediately slams his palms over his mouth and disappears back into his bedroom, his muffled screaming almost funny if it hadn’t been for the fact that Chat Noir literally told her that every single day since their heat began, “Adrien?”

He still doesn’t answer her and Ladybug walks over to the window, peeking in only to see Adrien crumbled into a ball just underneath the sill, “Do I uh...do I actually smell that good?”

Adrien spooks at the sound of her voice above his head and leaps a solid metre into the air before landing on all fours several lengths away, his skin utterly devoid of colour, “Yes, god yes.”

There’s a long beat, one that floods his bedroom with pink and sparkles and an idea erupts in her brain that is positively the best and the worst plan she’s ever come up with, “Can I come in? You uh...you smell good too.”

“Please,” Adrien wheezes and he sinks to his knees as Ladybug climbs through his window and stalks towards him, her eyes trained on his, “W-what do I smell like?”

She’s in front of him in a flash and Ladybug’s nonexistent resolve crumbles into insanity as she gives into the frighteningly overwhelming craving overtaking her senses, “Roses and lemon tarts.”

Adrien’s entire body shivers as she pulls back and his pupils are wider than she’s ever seen them, “Y-yeah? That’s...that’s so weird.”

“I like it,” Ladybug growls and _what the hell is she doing?!_  

“You smell like strawberries,” he blurts and immediately skitters back onto his haunches as Ladybug shifts her weight onto her hands and knees, crawling towards him, “Ladybug? What are you...are you—”

She’s utterly lost her mind and she realises this but #yolo, “I’m going to kiss you.”

_“What?!”_

“Yup,” Ladybug pursues him across the floor until his back against the other side of the wall, “C’mere.”

Adrien lets out a warble that goes right to her clit as she finally corners him, only a hair’s breadth away from his lips. She’s had plenty of practice kissing Chat so this should be a cinch right? And unlike Chat, Adrien is someone she actually wants to kiss and hug and touch and lick and suck and bite—

Ladybug presses a punishingly bruising kiss to his lips and Adrien immediately whines, melting like wax onto the floor and Ladybug wastes no time crawling on top of him, driving him senseless. She devours him the same way she’s done hundreds of times to her partner, nibbling his lower lip and soothing the sting with her tongue before doing it all again. She flattens her body on his and buries her fingers in her hair, content to grind herself against the lump in his jeans and kiss him hungrily, voracious and dominant against his lips. She loves how he just lays there and takes it like he’s living his best life, holding her and touching every centimetre he can reach and it feels so familiar except it’s Adrien and not her mangy, goofball of a partner.

“Ladybug…” he moans and bucks up against her which only drives her wilder and she begins to pick up the pace in earnest, his little noises of pleasure driving her insane. She breaks the kiss and draws his earlobe into her mouth with such gusto that Adrien cries out beneath her, a perfect broken sound that she wants to hear again and again. She traces her tongue up the shell of his ear in the same way that Chat loves so much and Adrien is literal putty in her hands now, hot and panting and gloriously flushed beneath her and _god,_ she just wants to make him feel good.

So she uses every trick in her arsenal. She latches onto his pulse point just above where Chat’s suit would end and Adrien gasps like he’s died and gone to heaven so she does it again and again until he starts to lose his rhythm, his whimpers rising in both pitch and tempo. She loves seeing him so undone and it’s so much better than any of her wet dreams as she grinds her clit on the fly of his jeans relentlessly and he’s crying out in her ear, begging incoherently as he seizes beneath her and _fuck_ , so is she, cresting to a mind blowing crescendo that's harder than she’s ever experienced before in her life but _putain de merde!_ she’s never felt so good!

Two minutes? Ten minutes? Who the hell knows, but time has passed and she’s still flopped over his trembling body like a sated tiger over her prey, a smile of pure satisfaction spreading across her lips. She opens her eyes and Adrien is staring at her like she’s his source of life and Ladybug vows that no matter how completely and utterly embarrassed she’ll be about this once she gets home, she is totally going to visit tomorrow and do this all again.

“Nyuh,” he tries to make his tongue work but all that comes out is a high pitched moan as she peels herself off of him with a carnivorous grin.

“As much as I’d love to stay and play, I have to get going,” Ladybug’s fingers walk up his chest on their own accord and if Adrien could speak, he’d surely have begged her to stay, “How about I come by another night?”

He’s nodding vigorously as Ladybug pops to her feet and stretches, completely unhindered by the fact that the crotch of her suit is visibly soaking wet, “I’m glad we agree. And Adrien? Find something to use as a blindfold. Next time the suit comes off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a special hole in hell for me and you're all invited FYI.
> 
> Cum on and leave me a comment!
> 
> P.S. I hope you think about me next time you eat an éclair

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you enjoyed! I'd be overcum with happiness ;)


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